


Togheter

by miriamwinchester



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Comfort, Croatia NT, Fluff, Love, M/M, lots of fluff, someone had to write about them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-12 01:17:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15328524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miriamwinchester/pseuds/miriamwinchester
Summary: Šime Vrsaljko felt more than proud to be part of Croatia NT, but sometimes his emotions get too much out of him. Fortunately, Dejan Lovren is there to save the day (or the night, in this case).This is set after the defeat against France.





	Togheter

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic, so be gentle with me xd  
> I’m more than glad to have written this, it was about time someone wrote about them!  
> I’ve never felt like this about a bromance. Dejan and Šime have my heart, and this fanfic proves just how much I love their relationship.

They just became vice-champions of the world. Nothing compares to the feeling of fighting for your country and receiving such a reward in return. Šime knew that after all this, he would be so drunk, that all he’ll feel will be the numbness of an engulfing victory.

Lost in thoughts, he felt Dejan’s arms around him, caressing his back while Šime minimalised every possible space between them by pressing his body against the older man. Dejan traced his lips over Šime’s neck longily, taking his time, breathing in the mix of scents. They were both feeling the triumph on the tip of their tongues and oh didn’t it taste wonderful.

Fearing the public sight, Šime dared to slightly press his mouth over Dejan’s cheek, closing his eyes and gracefully tasting his skin.

“We did it”, said Dejan above a whisper. The younger could sense relief in his voice, and a massive weight lifted off his chest as he sipped in the view of Lovren’s smile. Instinctively, he smiled too. So much, that his cheeks started to ache of happiness. He told Dejan that words weren’t enough to reflect his joy, and started singing from the top of his lungs, as Dejan was looking at him with sincere sparks in his eyes. Seconds later, he played along and they were spotted beaming endlessly at each other. The sort of smiles that radiated intimacy, filled with honest feelings.

But he came to the realisation that it was _over_. The World Cup ended for once and for all. He wasn’t sure how to react. Should he feel delighted that everything was put to an end? No, he actually wanted to experience each moment again, on a loop. How reckless of him to think that this World Cup was one to forget so easily. He suddenly felt a pang of guilt surging into him and it kept coming in waves, like an intermitent disturbance, as Dejan crossed his mind. He would be without him for a long time.

“What’s up, baby boy?”, asked Dejan concerned when he saw the frown upon his face, his earth-like brown eyes staring into emptiness, after entering the room. They were in their hotel room, way past their bedtime and apparently the celebrations were left unfinished, as they knew another round would take place later.

Dejan hurried towards Šime with rapid steps and kneeled down in front of him, carefully lifting up his head, obligating him to meet his eyes. Šime was leaning his back against the wall. The younger felt the coldness of a tear on his cheek, but more and more were starting to run down his face. You could smell alcohol in Dejan’s breath, but despite that, he never felt more awaken consequent to witnessing the pain of his lover.

“I... I am so scared”, Šime blurted out after several minutes of hiccuping. “I don’t want to lose you”, he said again.

“But baby, this will not happen. I’m right here”, he sincerely answered. Dejan made him sit up, immediately wrapping his arms around him, to let him know he’s not _alone_. He desired to wash away his pain, to pour all the love into him. So, he kissed his lips, resting them there for the slightest of moment until Šime pressed harder. Dejan laid his hands on his cheeks, while the other one clutched at his shirt, _needing_ something to hold onto.

In the meantime, Dejan didn’t show any attempt in rushing Šime. He allowed him to open up about his fears, about how much he wished to turn back time in order to re-live every minute spent on this tournament _especially_ those with Dejan. All this because he was afraid of the future. Even though they’ve been togheter for a long time, almost 2 years, Šime’s still living under the false impression that he’ll not be able to cope with the harshness that comes with the temporary physical separation.

“Look, I know it’s hard when it’s time to be apart from each other. I’m with you in this, and I’m sure we’ll get through this togheter. It hurts because our souls are connected. You know how we always say : _we’re all in this togheter, and it shows when we stand, hand in hand_ ”, he sang the High School Musical lyrics in a soothing and cheerful voice that held nothing but promises meant to keep them side to side. He then grabbed his hands, and saw a glint of hope in Šime’s eyes and a beautiful smile plastered on his face. Dejan returned the gesture, as he sticked his lips to the corner of his mouth.

“I love you. I fucking love you with every piece of me”, Šime uttered in a desperate attempt to give back the deep affection he’s been shown.

“You’re the synonym of my happiness, you handsome big man”, murmured Vrsaljko into his hear, briefly biting the earlobe. Dejan felt a heat surrender him and with that, he grabbed the back of Šime’s thighs, forcing him to latch them around his waist. He passionately kissed him, discharging the desire he just flourished after hearing his lovely words. Šime deep-throatly moaned, sending shivers through Dejan’s body, vibrating furiously.

“True love doesn’t have ending, honey. Our story keeps going”, raspily declared Dejan, trailing kisses down his neck.

Dejan’s heart has just been stolen, and Šime is gonna keep it for sure, secured, and vice-versa.


End file.
